Sweet Dreams
by FantasticMr.Socks
Summary: Meant as a sequel to Evidence, although if the first few words are ignored, then it could stand on it's own. HungaryxPrussia smut, there's a reason Hungary is put first.


Weeks later he found himself back in that leather chair, the wafting scent of fried asshole and menthol rising to meet his nose as he plopped himself down in it. Dry musing told him he should buy one for the basement, seeing as how he liked this one so much. Or better yet, steal it from the hotel, or the motel; it mattered not what kind of establishment it was.

The incessant lamentation of minute hand did nothing to sooth his jitters, The Prussian could not find it in himself to have the patience to wait for someone. Soon, the clatter of nails on finished wood joined the lamenting minute hand in a choir of disquietude. Momentarily the tick of the hour hand would be masked by the creaking of the doorknob as the long awaited guest of honor arrived.

In a whirl they met nose to nose. Gilbert had been so lost in his band of cacophony that he didn't notice she had arrived. Carmine pools resting on a back drop of white, widened considerably and his mouth hung open at the lustful look in her eyes. In a flash, his lips met hers and his brief naivety absconded with her panties, callous appendages meandering up her skirt while their tongues battled for dominance. He won out in the end, through dirty tricks he knew would make her relinquish to him.

The sudden smirk on her lips caught him off guard and he had no time to react when he tumbled to the ground and out of the chair. The wheels spun as the back met the carpet in a non-consensual affront, the leather groaning like its former occupant at the sudden shift in position.

Garnet orbs blazed as she stood over him, stiletto digging painfully into his shoulder earning a gasp from the one on the floor. The view pleased his wandering eyes as they moved their way from her barely clothed thighs to her womanly area. Her heel moved with his eyes and the pressure let up as it glided over his chest and down his torso, working itself gently against him as it found his cock more responsive than his shoulder.

"Abusing me all of a sudden~? How unlike you." The comment held a dry tone, more suited for a British comedian than a snarky and uncouth Prussian. After all, he'd felt worse than the heel of her shoe digging into him. Frying pans were much more painful.

"Where's the fun in using you…if I don't get to abuse you as well? Besides-" Much to his displeasure, she moved her shoe from his manhood and settled it on the spot outside of his thigh. Lowering herself down and straddling his hips, the Hungarian whispered in his ear, a bewitching tone in her voice. "You like it~" A low rumbling noise escaped the back of her throat as she began to work off his rather expensive looking white button down shirt with built in black vest. It slid off his shoulders easily, and he barely had to lift his arm to get out of the sleeve. One size too big, that never shrunk in the wash.

He had no rebuttal, and she took the time to admire his slightly scrawny but toned physique. The Prussian had more abdominal muscle than the Austrian, and she found herself tracing his muscles while she mused about the differences. They contracted against her hand, surreptitiously avoiding contact as a futile attempt to save the Prussian some sort of discontent.

"Enough games Lizzy….."

Misplaced in her memory was the fact that the Prussian hated teasing, and feather light touches incited shivers and stirrings he couldn't control. With a grin on her face she forced him on his hands and knees, commanding him to stay while she got up and grabbed her bag. It was bigger than the last time, able to carry her trusted kitchen utensil she loved so much.

Twirling it in her hand once, she instructed the albino to strip off his pants. His protest died in his throat when a steely glare made its way over to him along with its owner. He raised himself off of his hands, resting on his knees, and shimmied out of his pants and boxers.

It felt awkward to him, being the only naked one in the room, but his awkwardness soon deviated into embarrassment as he felt a finger pressed into him. Heat immediately rushed to his face and his protests revived themselves.

"W-what the…Y-you can't do th-" A second, more punishing finger pressed into him while he spoke, and her commanding tone silenced him further.

"You will do as I say, it's my turn tonight." His head hung low, a sense of emasculinity invading his thoughts. A sharp swat to his backside quickly raised his head. He bit his lip, finding out quickly that _his_ kinks were being played on tonight, rather than their usual sessions of shameless fucking.

"Hold your head up and keep your head up." Her tone never abdicated its relationship with ice as her fingers worked themselves inside him, stretching him out none-too gently. The switch in positions felt nice to her and gave her a sense of dominance that she knew made the Prussian irate. It was a different situation entirely when a _woman _topped.

He moaned loudly when those infuriating appendages brushed over his sweet spot. That chuckle clawing at his ears did nothing to sooth his indignant state of being. Suddenly, her fingers removed themselves and despite himself, the Prussian gave a soft whine at the lack of feeling inside him.

Short lived, the feeling came to be, when he felt the cool metal handle of the Hungarian's frying pan enter him slowly. The entire situation did not sit well with the Prussian's pride, and his stomach, however, his cock disagreed with the both of them. Despite himself he couldn't shake the enjoyment of being dominated by someone such as Elizaveta and soon he found himself moaning wantonly as she thrust the utensil in and out of him.

"Look at you, moaning like a whore, and for such a predicament. Mmm, you're lucky this is our little secret." Her crooning voice only furthered his discomfort, but he couldn't help but moan louder in response to not only her voice, but the feeling of her nails scraping against his back.

Like a good little Germanic slut, he moaned and writhed beneath her as she fucked him mercilessly with her frying pan, feeling himself getting closer and closer as her thrusts increased. He did not forget to keep his head up and his fingers dug into the carpeted floor as the sensations were becoming too much for him

"Look at you, throbbing like you are…..You're enjoying this much too much Beilschmidt~" Her fingers gingerly grasped his cock, stroking it ever so slowly before she let go and her nails grazed over his thighs. Instantly his walls tightened around her pan handle and he gave a long and loud cry of the Hungarian's name as he came unceremoniously over her hand.

With a chuckle she pulled out her pan as he collapsed on the floor, body covered in a light sheen of sweat, his eyes swimming with confusion. Never before in their moonlight escapades had she ever wanted to top him or made even a remote notion that she wanted to.

Her saccharine voice assaulted his ears and the sound of running water harmonized with her humming as she washed off her pan. "You know…..I've always wanted to use you in the way you use me…And now that I've finally done so…..I finally know what's inside you." She grinned and set the pan on the vanity before helping him into bed.

Kissing his forehead, she grabbed her panties and put them back on, a sudden discomfort she hadn't felt before now coming to light as her undergarments clung to her uncomfortably. "Sweet dreams~" She called, as opened the door and sauntered out into the night.

Rolling onto his side, he watched her go a bitter remark befalling long departed ears.

"Are made of this."


End file.
